


Peacock.

by Azriel_Lolita



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Other, Song fic, complete and utter crack, dumb fic is dumb, men wearing panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azriel_Lolita/pseuds/Azriel_Lolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after a long day at work Greg Lestrade unwinds with some help of some silk panties and Katy Perry. (Now with smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingedWhale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedWhale/gifts).



> Written for Wingedwhale because she drew Lestrade in panties and made my brain go boom. Also she is my sister in Sherstrade. (and my partner in all thing depraved.)
> 
> no beta and un-britpicked. all mistakes are my own.

Gregory Lestrade’s first thought as he entered his flat was a nice long shower. After the day he had, he deserved it. Nothing but tedious paperwork all day, broken up every fifteen minutes by texts from bored Consulting Detectives demanding case files. Stepping into the shower he tried to wash the annoyance of the day off his skin. As he was lathering the suds in his silver hair he realized the perfect way to cheer himself up. The little present he bought himself a few weeks back was just begging to be played with. With a grin creeping on his face he quickly rinsed the rest of the suds out of his hair and turn the shower off. 

After toweling off he completely disregarded the dressing gown he had hung behind the door and sauntered into his bedroom to retrieve the small pink bag from under his bed. He smiled as he reached into the bag and pulled out his secret little treasure. A pair of silky panties in a brilliant teal with a charm of a peacock dangling inside a little tear drop cut out on the back. Bending down he put his legs in the holes and pulled the silky fabric up his toned legs to his waist. His cock, which had become half hard from the feel of silk sliding across his skin, was barely concealed by the fabric. He walked over to the mirror and turned. His ass looked like it was painted with a shiny teal paint and had the charm was resting just above the cleft of his ass.

This was almost the perfect way to soothe away the sorrows from the days stress, and annoyance. There was just one thing missing. He went over to the sock drawer to where he kept, what he thought, was more embarrassing CDs. The Queen, The Clash, The Beatles, and The U2 were all proudly displayed in his sitting room. Here, in his own little Chamber of Secrets, was where he kept the Britney and the Christina and the Katy. He selected the album with no hesitation; he knew exactly what he needed. After putting the CD in the player in his bedroom he skipped immediately to track five, put it on repeat, and turned the volume up as loud as it could go.   
As the woman’s voice poured from the speakers he jumped onto his bed and, shaking his arse along to the beat, began to sing along.

“I wanna see your peacock-cock-cock. Your peacock-cock.”

Completely letting loose and losing himself in the song, he let go of all the struggles of the day.   
The annoying paperwork.   
Anderson.   
Stupid Consulting Detectives with their stupid face and their stupid cheek bones. And those perfectly sculpted lips. And Lestrade was sure the rest of him would be as beautifully crafted.

Yeah.

“Come on baby let me see, what you’re hiding underneath.”

He continued to shake he arse as he caught sight of himself in his mirror. He had to admit, he teal panty clad arse bouncing around looked pretty good. He only wished he had the nerve to go over to Baker Street in these panties, put on this song, and give Sherlock one hell of a show.

“I wanna see your peacock-cock-cock. Your peacock-cock.”

After the fifth or sixth (he lost count) repetition of the song his dance moves were quickly moving to “random booty shaking” to “practically twerking” to “damn throw some money at me”. His body had a fine layer of sweat and his panties had darkened with perspiration. You could clearly see the outline of his cock and the dark shadow of the crack of his arse. But he was still no closer to stopping. He had to get this all out of his system now, or the next time he saw Sherlock he wasn’t sure he could refrain from busting out singing. 

“Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock? Don’t be a chicken boy, stop acting like a beeotch.” 

He was so immersed in the music he never heard the door to his flat open or the steps coming closer to the bed room. But he did most definitely noticed when the music stopped mid lyric as he kept awkwardly singing.

“What you waiting for, it’s time for you to show it off. Don’t be a shy kind of guy, I’ll bet it’s beautiful.”

He whipped around on the bed quickly moving to cover himself a beat too late.

“oh… er… hello Sherlock.”


	2. come on baby let me see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much Sherlock's take & then picking up where we left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. No britpick. Typed up and posted from mobile. I apologise.

Sherlock was bored. B. O. R. E. D. BORED! He had nothing on so his mind started to wander. Thinking back to his last few cases one thing, er... person, kept leaping to the forefront of his minds.

Sherlock wasn't blind. He saw the looks the Detective Inspector kept giving. His desire clear as day. Sherlock was much better (he hoped) at keeping his own desire hidden. And with that, he knew how he was going to spend his day.

Setting a timer to go off every fifteen minutes he sat down and carefully planned out all the days text to one Gregory Lestrade in the hopes that he would show up at the DI's flat that night and covince shag the frustration right out of him.

That evening Sherlock climb the stairs to Greg's door. With a smug smile on his face, he raised his hand to knock on the door, and froze when he registered that the blaring pop music was coming from Greg's flat. Frowning he began to pick the lock. If the upbeat pop music was anything to go by, Lestrade would be in an annoyingly good mood.

Pushing the door open he looked around for his DI and he was know where to be seen. He walked over to the bedroom door and the sight he saw completely took his breath away. 

Standing on his bed, Greg was doing some weird dancing that would not have looked out of place in a strip club. He was wearing teal womans panties and covered in sweat. While the woman singing the song was placing all sorts of thoughts in the Consulting Detective's brain.

“Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock? Don’t be a chicken boy, stop acting like a beeotch.”

Reaching over to the shelf, Sherlock lowered the volume down in one swift motion on the CD player, but the DI continued to sing.

“What you waiting for, it’s time for you to show it off. Don’t be a shy kind of guy, I’ll bet it’s beautiful.”

Sherlock shut the bedroom door and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest and smirked as Lestrade quickly tried to cover himself.

"Now now Lestrade, I beleive the song said NOT to be shy and to show it off."

Lestrade swallowed hard, got down off the bed, and managed to find his voice.

"Hardly fair for me to showing off when your still wearing your bloody coat."

As soon as those words fell from his lips Lestrade felt the energy morph from a teasing embarrassment to a white hot electricity, sizzling between them.

Taking the few steps towards Sherlock, Greg pulled the scarf from Sherlock's neck and stepped back dropping the scarf on the ground between them.

"Do you need more help than that? Come on, let me see."

A switch flipped and Sherlock practically ripped off all his clothes except for the pair of tight black boxer briefs. He stepped up to Lestrade, pushed him on the bed, and climbed up on top of him. 

Greg wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled him down into a breath taking kiss. When Sherlock pulled back he looked in Greg's eyes and smirked, "women's panties. Lestrade. Really?" He punctuated each statement with a kiss and pulled back to let him answer.

"it's too hard to explain. Let me show you."

Greg reached down and pulled Sherlock's pants down as far as he could reach, and rolled his hips upwards, causing his satin clad cock to rub against Sherlock's naked one. 

Sherlock's hips stuttered forward.

"Oh."

"Yes," Lestrade rolled his hips forward again, "oh."

Sherlock snapped. Pressing Greg into the mattress, peppering kisses along his neck and collar bone, Sherlock began rutting furiously against Greg's satin panties.

They somehow hit the CD players remote and turned the volume back up.

"Oh my God no exaggeration. Boy all this time was worth the waiting."

Neither man cared about their new sound track, they just rutted against each other until they both came. Sherlock on the outside of the panties, Greg on the inside.

Flopping to the side Sherlock lay panting. Greg took off his panties and used them to clean himself and Sherlock up and threw them on the floor.

"Thanks a lot Sherlock. They were brand new, and you ruined them."

"Your welcome."

"SHERLOCK!"

"Don't worry I'll buy you more. A lot more."

Greg turned his head to see Sherlock watching him and they smiled at each other before Sherlock continued.

"And I'll ruin all those ones too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First ever smut. Yeah. I know it's bad.

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from the song 'Peacock' by Katy Perry, which also the song used in the fic. I have a Katy Perry problem, don't judge me.
> 
> I do not claim to be good at writing, I just like to do it.


End file.
